All's End: First Segment
by Therix
Summary: Two champions. One puppeteer. A dozen dimension. The end of days is upon them all, and now the light and darkness will decide their fate.
1. Before it all Ends

_You know, I never managed to answer the question of whether or not power is truly a blessing or a curse. It's quite a conundrum really…it brings responsibility, there's the whole money/power good/evil debate…doesn't make things easy, does it? To take a cynical view, it is the greatest of blessings; you make bend your will to righteous means, or something otherwise. Unfortunately, it seems that power created accidentally shall always be a curse. As I have already stated, it is not quite decided, however, and I think the 'power debate' shall remain so for some time._

_This isn't for me to divulge my political or influential beliefs upon you, for I am not a cruel man- incorrect. Cruelty is subjective, so am I cruel? Judge for yourself._

_Anyway, I digress, there are two lives shattered, a third is creative, the fourth chose the lost. A riddle, yes, and now I will write the clues:_

Numbers.

Syllables.

Incoherent, coherent, broken.

Astreamofmeaninglesswords.

Pain, brief, excruciating.

Colours! Everywhere! Damn them, out of the way!

A closed pocket, overlapping meanings the fabric, a button that shouts back. It unfolds, flows in and embracing…

She finds it comforting.

Then she is awake…the girl, barely still adolescent, tormented by dreams that pursued her behind her eyelids, where none could follow. She lay still, corpse-like, head cushioned by the malleable fabric-substance at the head of the oval-shaped bed. Her eyes opened a notch – pearly white eyes – to take in the room. Her pupils dilated for moments as they registered the lack of light and widened accordingly, until she could see…adequately.

One hand twitched as she worked the feeling back into it…fuck…must've been sleeping on it or something…couldn't feel a damn thing…there. The corners of her mouth twitched in a smile as blood began to flow again, and she raised the hand to brush a few stray wisps of hair out of her face. Pure white hair…another strange trait of birth. Brushing the fronds out of the way the girl paused, thoughts lingering on this abnormality in this unwanted state of wakefulness.

She tipped her head sideways, staring at a small patch of rainbow lights scuttling on a patch of the pearly smooth surface that they seemed to build everything from. Early-morning, damn.

The girl – you will learn her name in due time, do not fret – tried again to sleep, but it resisted and pushed away; it would not come to the door again tonight, not for her at least. Perhaps… a little time to think. She had grown remarkably good at contemplation – a little introspective, she was, in the eyes of others. Not overly so – her race was known for knowledge, thought, consideration before action, and most important, wisdom beyond mortal comprehension.

Ah, yes, I did not mention. Though those of her race can be killed, they are otherwise immortal – from what passes for puberty amongst them they remain in a state of perpetual beauty – once again it is subjective. From the moment they pass that barrier they are captured at their zenith, their highest point of life, for all eternity. War is rare, breeding less so, the reason for the Hate Passing…the girl's thoughts spoke of the event, and she felt a shudder at the _unpleasantness_ of it. Someone had to die, to ensure a fresh generation could live.

Her feet slid out of bed, exposing slender white legs to the cool evening. She shivered as she left the warmth of the covers, hand groping around near the bed for the discarded loos-fitting garb that she quickly adorned. It was for informal occasions – it looked much like a Greek Toga, the sort of thing we see Zeus depicted wearing – and she had been wearing it the previous day during her studies. She sat on the edge of the bed, shaking slightly both from the cold and the sudden wakefulness, head buried in hands as she fought for control of her thoughts.

It had been like this for weeks, nay months – each time she woke, a few moments of peaceful bliss to make herself decent, then it would return…chattering, incessant noise she could not understand, it overran her barriers and broke down her will…every damn night…

A sob escaped her lips as she cast it out once more, the stress of effort amounting to a headache, as she lay back slightly, gasping for breath through the sheer mental exertion.

She ran through the facts again…

Two months and six days ago, the temples lit up like suns, crystal fire engulfing the sanctified grounds, four days later, the nightmares begin…the morning after that…the fighting…every day it tried to take over. She wanted to tell the others, ask if they knew what was going on, but would be utter folly! 'Hey, since the temple caught fire I keep having nightmares and the voices in my head are trying to take over.' She sounded like she was already mad, even to herself. No…a secret for now.

"Light and darkness, simple balance." She mumbled, below even a whisper, to the silent room. The ancient catechism, the five words born into minds of each of her race in the moment of conception. The words always seemed so _hollow_, pointless, these days. They were special, she was told, but for Creation's sake, _why?_

Aiira…that name! Everything about her was a damn anomaly. Her eyes, white, pearly, her hair, white and shimmering, her skin, white again…and that name…there had never, in all the days of her race, been a name like it. The priests had chosen it for her, and their concerned looks, hurried conference and whispers to Aiira's parents had only confirmed to her, even so young, that something was different about her. What it was had never become clear, but something had always been lingering in the back of her mind…

Aiira shrugged it off, trying to work some feeling back into waking muscles as she stood, giving a quick glance to her training gear; leathery gauntlets and greaves, and the weapon a flat-bladed spear. She weighed the weapon in one hand, the nightmares fading as she became ever-aware of waking her parents. They wouldn't wake for a little longer.

_"Go!"_

The call came out of nowhere, and Aiira was certain it came from within. She tensed, a moment's sickness rushing through her as stomach muscles tightened, and then she waited, spear in hand.

_"Damnit, girl, what are you waiting for? Go! Run! Get out of here!"_

"Who the hell are you?" she meant to sound intimidating, or brave at least, but it came out timidly, as a whisper.

_"Oh come on Aii, it's me, Menthis! How can you forget your own sister? Listen, you have to get out of here. I- I'm sorry, I don't have time to explain."_

"Sister- how?" Aiira stuttered, confused. "How are you…what…"

_"I keep telling you, I don't have time to explain! I'm in a lot of trouble and soon you're going to be too, but you need to get out of here unless you want to bring it down on everyone. I can't- I don't have time to tell you about it now, nor am I allowed to; please, just take my word for it and __**run!**__"_

Unsure of what was going on but emboldened and chastened by her sister's words, Aiira did as she was asked and bolted from the room, pausing only briefly at the door to snatch up a small band of dark obsidian, a gift from that very same sister, before she resumed her flight.

* * *

Menthis leant back on the ledge, sweating profusely, and she ran a hand through her thick, black hair. She had already undergone the pain of transformation…a pain she wished her sister would not have to face, but that would happen nonetheless. Her time had almost been expended in that brief conversation, testimony to the cruelty of he who forced this anguish onto the pair of them.

Menthis, as Aiira knew her, was no longer there. Menthis now was tall, seven feet in fact, and the peak of beauty. Slender limbs and a waist to die for, topped by a head overflowing with both intelligence and hair that ran to her hips. Soon the same transformation would become reality for Aiira too, and it would hurt.

Menthis wiped the sweat from her brow. She hadn't realised how _taxing_ it would be. New powers, a fresh start, but she was young in this body. It felt surprisingly good, the power she was granted, though she knew not yet how to use it, but her sister was more important. They had to come to blows, but somehow, through some means, she would fight by her side at least once more, and finally trade shots with the bastard that had done this.

* * *

**_Five millennia prior…_**

I'm not gonna lie to ya, I was in a pretty tight spot. Back then…back then I was scum, near-as-damn the lowest of the low. Course, there were the actual hive gangs after that, then the rot that scrounged off them…nah, couldn't give a fuck about either of them. Hive gangs meant groups, they meant communities, moving targets. Like hell I was going to lumber myself with those, not in my position.

Twisting alleys, tall buildings, a labyrinth of pipes both working and derelict, very noisy. You could hear hivers moving ten miles away, if you stopped and listened. Half a dozen, maybe, if they weren't too careful. Me? One man, almost fuckin' invisible. Alone, you don't need to watch those dicks fumbling around in the dark, tripping over pipes and running into things. Alone, you only look out for yourself, your feet, your hands, your eyes and anything they touch. You're you, not anyone else, not the best in a fight, _but the best way to stay out of one._

So why the hell was I on the run from almost every planetary authority you could take a stab at, with some whiplash jogging along behind me. Alright, fair is fair, he wasn't bad, mostly kept himself together, avoided obstacles and the like, but he still caused more noise than I did – sometimes not the type you could here. A twisted piece of metal, a muddy footprint, all kinds of noise that could give us away.

"Remind me again why the fuck I chose to bail you out?" I snapped back at him after he had once again managed to set off an echo in this cavernous network of pipes.

"Because I'm the only one who knows how to get of this junk-hole without being seen. That's why." His reply was explained in a smooth, confident voice, one that I most sincerely despised. Let's get this straight, I'm not a great fighter, as I said, I avoid confrontation when I can. I use my voice, pitch, tone, melody and environment, to misdirect those who might seek to harm me. You get people like Dark – that's that arse's name, Dark – who always talk in the same velvety calmness, sometimes tinged with panic if you really catch them off-guard. They don't understand the subtlety of speech and how it can be used.

Let me see, I myself had stopped growing at the time, a teenager, though not for long, and almost six feet tall. My hair never left a long, dark warrior's wolf tail and my beard followed my jawbone from my ears to my chin. That a good enough description? It's the best I can come up with, short of pulling myself apart and getting someone else to give you a detailed description of my internal organs. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I was fairly slim, enough so to survive in the gutters of the hive world, at least. One hand slid to the knife I kept on my belt – I had already contemplated killing him half a dozen times, pretty uncharitably, but my life alone had bred a rather cold streak in me. If someone got to within a few feet of me, killing them was my first thought.

"Then for fuck's sake keep your feet out of the shit. I've survived this long, I don't want to get myself killed for you trippin' everywhere." As you may have guessed, I was already an eloquent swearer.

Then I heard it: Collapsing pipes, the screech of metal on metal and the sounds of thousands of tiny fragments chattering together. _Fucking creeper._ Centipede-like constructs the local arbites used to hunt people like us – like me, down. I was pretty sure it was after me, and if it had me logged, stealth was a waste of time. Now it was time to move.

I pushed off from the wall, Dark automatically following suite, and vaulted with practised precision over the protruding end of a steam-vent. My shadow followed me, with a moment's hesitation, and then we were running, just…_running._ As we moved, dodging scrap and discarded bits of machinery, I kept one ear on the Creeper. It was getting closer, much closer – too close, how had it covered that much distance? It had practically halved the distance between it and us in a few moments. I'd never heard one move that fast, but then again, I'd never been on the receiving end of one, either.

I stumbled and fell amongst the broken metal as the entire deck shuddered violently, as something, something massive, broke from its mountings and plummeted to the ground – that wasn't like the Creeper-gangs. Arbites tried to keep stuff like that intact…my vision blurred as I fell, twisting to land on my back, the world behind Dark exploding into a wash of blue hues, my companion throwing himself to the ground purposefully as something tore through the piping above us, trailing over our heads. As it passed over me, it unexplainably switched directions, knifing through the air and into my skull.

I can tell you now that it hurt, hurt like I was being filleted, slowly, as something, some power, some other conscience, invaded my thoughts, battering aside defences that had held for my lifetime, settling in the corners of my mind like some vindictive watcher. My life changed, in more ways than one.

* * *

Aiira staggered as her leg gave out, pain coursing through it from the constant running, she stumbled and fell at the edge of the vast bridge that crossed the expanse between the two nations, one hand going to the leg to test the muscles and the pain itself, and Aiira winced as she felt nerves twinge in several places. She- she had to keep going. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Aiira forced herself to standing once more, limping onto the bridge, muscles twitching in pain with each step.

Halfway across the mile-long bridge, she finally could not go any further. And thus it was not pain that doth crippled her this, time, but emotion – a surge of the stuff, flooding her mind, every sort of pain, happiness, everything she could think of and more, her thoughts overloaded in a seething mass of pain as she fell finally to her knees, dropping the spear.

Then came the knowledge, a steady influx of knowledge she was unfamiliar with, theory, overlaid with ancient practise and words that could probably mince her tongue, teaching her, forcing her to understand.

As poor Aiira fought to control this mental battle, her body was wracked by a more obvious transformation, reactions conjured from the air, changing her body, taller, leaner, a body to fight with, but as always, there is a little leftover. That remaining energy mixed into the air, incorrect compounds forming and reverting to their base state: Pure energy.

The explosion rocked the planet itself, though the blast did not, the shockwave shattering the silence as the fragile bridge moaned in protest to the forces and pressures unleashed against it, and, accompanying a noise that sounded like a thunderbolt, the whole thing collapsed, torn apart in a cataclysmic explosion, dropping away into the gaping chasm that led to the planet's core.

How Aiira escaped, I do not know.

* * *

**A/N: Frankly, I'm not sure if I should be uploading it here, but it has lots of fanfiction elements and wouldn't really be suited to FictionPress.**


	2. Meet the Titans i

A clear, cool night, city lights a mile away a stark contrast to the imposing forest equidistant across the water, a soft, constant, and slightly salty wind drifting in from across the ocean…a good night for thought, for contemplation, Raven believed. Nights like this, the others were inside, watching or playing something on the massive television or poking fun of each other, she could retreat to the roof and meditate, exerting control over emotion and thus power.

As she lifted her feet from the ground, disobeying physics as she hovered a couple of feet off the ground, he cloak remained firmly held by gravity, revealing a pair of still slender, pale greyish legs to the night sky.

Her mind drifted away from the stickiness of reality, floating into the ether that exists amongst all things, unheard, unseen. Her mind appeared as colour and noise, a picture of dimensions that stretched out before her an endless, compressed landscape that ever-changed, shifting and inconstant with her thoughts.

Out there, in that realm where the impossible was made real, thoughts turned into substance, something _twitched._ Raven's eyelid twitched also, an involuntary muscle spasm, and at first, she was willing to believe it was just that. Then it happened again, and this time, it wasn't her. She could feel it, the flicker and twist of another mind, and whoever it was, they were _powerful._ It took a good deal of pain and effort to make yourself heard in the thoughts of another, and to do it without direction…who- or what, was doing this?

In a rush she pulled herself back into reality, cautious but still afraid of what may happen were she to come into contact with such a mind, one that could pour out raw power and still remain in control. The mind needed control, unless that mind wished for anarchy. In Raven's head, where everything, emotion, thought, was all kept on a tight leash, it was practically the antithesis to her brain.

Raven did not yet want to return to the warmer indoors with the others – though she never voiced it, she held within her a quiet contempt for those she called teammates; they were too brash, frivolous and uncontrolled. Their dancing minds always interrupted her quiet meditations, disturbed her focus with roaming thoughts. As far as she was concerned, they weren't really fit for combat, much less organised teamwork, and her careful pressure on their minds had often been the only thing keeping them together.

She decided to remain out a while longer, but not to meditate, not with a rogue mind running amok, but rather to run through recent events, get them in order and put some reason to them. With a heavy sigh she began. Yes, there had been an escalation in villain activities, but there was no coordination between them, no common goal or purpose, nothing to link one event with the next apart from the fact that all the perpetrators were evil and some villains repeated crimes.

Something was spurring them on, pushing them harder and harder to strain their foes, but whatever it was seemed to have no semblance of strategy, and only seemed intent on giving the Titans a hard time, rather than outright denial.

The last time there had been any mass uprisings they had been coordinated by a higher power, directed by a hidden arm and in the end the Titans around the world had been brought to their knees. Groups all over the world were once again chatting about the amount of villains they were putting down, but Raven could not find the method, if indeed there was one.

"Yo, Raven, you feel that?" The voice made her spin, to watch Cyborg, the heavyweight of the team, emerge from a hatchway that she herself had used only minutes earlier. "A couple of minutes ago most of my electronics fired off all at once, and Robin's belt started mouthing off at everyone." Victor Stone, known these days as Cyborg, had been a military technician, until one of his newer weapons had malfunctioned and exploded while Victor was in the vicinity. The nature of the weapon had devoured most of his organic body, though he held out – mostly through sheer force of will and determination – long enough to be rebuilt using his own work into biomechanics. Many of his colleagues had been ready and willing to accept him back into the team, but the military had him honourably discharged to avoid the political implications of harbouring mechanically enhanced soldier. His life from there hadn't been the best, he couldn't keep a stable job for his 'enhancements' but luck and a little hand from fate had seen him become one of the founding bodies for the Teen Titans, though nowadays they were just the 'Titans.'

"I checked, but it was only our personal equipment that went on the fritz, anything that didn't connect to us wasn't touched." He brought her out of the train of thought, and then she would need to decide whether or not to tell him.

No, no point in worrying anyone until she knew a little more about what it is. "Oh, sorry, Cyborg." She replied, accompanying it with a dismissive wave, "I wasn't concentrating in my meditation, I might have just missed my mark a little. Don't worry about it."

"Really? Well, at least it wasn't anything to worry about then…wait a sec, you don't normally 'miss your mark.' Is something up?"

Raven's face turned grim with irritation for the barest instant before she was able to conceal it, at his drive to be concerned. She didn't _want_ him to always be prying into her business. When she said don't worry about it, she meant _don't worry about it._ "No, everything's fine. This sort of thing happens from time to time, though normally it just ends up with some idiot in the city throwing up in a dumpster."

The male Titan grinned at the joke. "Well, just wanted to make sure. I don't want someone yanking me around just because I'm made of metal, y'know?"

"Yea, whatever. Just go back inside and leave me alone." Cyborg was a little put-off by Raven's abrasive manner, but obeyed the order anyway, dropping back into the hatch and pulling it shut behind him with a solid thud. "Bit late for that, I've been controlling you for years…" she added to no-one in particular.

Dropping the shield around her mind, she let power seep out, a black, opaque sheet of energy that washed over her, forming around in a perfect sphere, and she, encased in the dark glowing case, sunk into the rooftop, intangible for moments, to find her room. The sphere rose up outside the door and unfolded like a flower, disappearing rapidly as she reabsorbed it via her feet.

For a moment, Raven did not move, tilting her head slightly to observe the lettering above the sliding automatic door, that read _**Raven**_, in big, thick, lettering. She raised one hand and the door slid open at her touch, and then she was within the safety of her sanctum, her private room, insulated and quieter than the rest of the tower.

Her room was much unlike those of her teammates', bookcases fixed to the floors lined the longest of the two walls, each filled with unmarked books – they had been marked, but she had removed them so that only she could determine the contents of each one – and a space when a dresser stood, on top of which lay a couple of books already open, and a hand-mirror ringed by darkened ivory spikes.

She moved quickly to her bed – near-circular and fit close to one of the short walls – beside which was a circular tower of shelves, resting upon which were rows and rows of various ingredients, alchemical or exotic, used in various practises of magic.

She multi-tasked, telekinesis to draw a seven-pointed pentagram on the floor with various ingredients as she searched the shelves for the appropriate works to use. Selecting a pair of books that slipped off the shelves to hang in the air, she moved swiftly back to the pentagram and lowered herself to sitting in the centre. With a word and a flick of the wrist she ensured the door could not be opened, and then got to work. The books spun without a hand to move them, back and forth to pages seemingly at random – but Raven, she was in control – words plucked from pages and placed in her mind, forming a sentence, a command, power that was dangerous to confine individually and so remained within books until needed.

Little bits of reality started to flake off inside the pentagram. You see, Rachel, or Raven as she became known, comes not from words as we know, but the floating city of Azarath, a dimension in itself, where magic and power are more…commonplace. The walls of reality there were stronger, her spells were so too, but not here…she detested that as well, another thing about the universe, it's lack of strength. The pentagram kept the damage confined to that little patch of reality, and now, after it had been resealed and used a few times or so, it had become easier to use as here inter-dimensional breach. As the spell finished forming, Raven opened her mouth, speaking in the tongue of Azarath, a voice that, to our ears, sounds like a pleasant music, which sharpens the more vulgar the speech. "By this ancient tongue I break down the walls of mine understanding, and open to the channels of thy eternity. Through the five curses and equal blessing, I become less yet more than I may be, and offer my soul in gambit for this knowledge."

She knew what she was risking – it was possibly the ultimate price – but if she wanted to stretch herself this far she needed to take a gamble on her fate, to even glean the slightest understand of the mind that she had witnessed. A thin mist of power drifted into the ether as Raven's consciousness separated the link from the body, and she went exploring.

Here and there she glimpsed active minds within the mass of colour and emotion, minds that had some 'extra' sense, granting them some brief insight into the world beyond reality. She began to see fragments that the mind had left behind – they were painfully obvious, whoever it was did not have much training in concealing their passage – it stood out like blood on white paint, but even a trail as clear as this…her mind screamed out not to follow, the sheer stupidity of such an act. But…she might not get another chance, it was rare a mind so powerful was so woefully untrained…  
_Critic."_ the thought appeared so suddenly and unbidden it could only have been another mind. Well, if it could use telepathy and knew she was there…might as well oblige.

_"What?"_ she formed the thought and sent it back. _"If someone's going to do this sort of thing, it's just insulting to leave their trail plastered over everything."_

_"What, and you're a master at it? Hmm? Let's see…oh, you are. Damnit! I'm not very good at this yet, alright."_

Raven's heart skipped a beat. She thought it was just another mind, one versed in traversing the mindscape, maybe the Herald, no…this **was** the mind she was searching for, the inept one. _"Well, since I can already find your mind, how about you tell me where you are and we work this out face to face? I don't like sitting in another dimension for any longer than necessary."_

_"Ah…well…I don't actually know where I am. I'm new to all this, I know how to do it but refining isn't the easiest thing to do…don't insult me, I haven't had much practise, after all."_

If Raven had a forehead at that point, she probably would have dented it on the desk by now. She was dealing with an absolute amateur!  
_"Excuse me! Not completely, I have done a bit of work already, I worked out how to pick my way into your thought patterns, after all."_  
It was a start, but they had some work to do. _"Are you somewhere material?"_

_"Yes…I think."_

_"Then get out of my head. I'll look around see if I can find out where you are, then we can work on refining your aim a little."_ her tone rose to one of superiority at the end, confident in the claim. A twitch and flicker of her mind and she flicked away the consciousness, having located it more substantially during the conversation, and her mind began to retreat to the constraints of flesh.

Great, even more on her plate.

* * *

"You never told us anything."

"I see no obligation to."

"We had the right, and you made a choice above your jurisdiction."

"You two had your sides; I had to make the choice for the sake of neutrality – and for the sake of everything else. Don't lecture me."

"We exist for the sake of it! As long as we both live, what's the need for this damned fight?"

"Every war ends – you two were procrastinating-"

"No, the champions were. You decided to thrust their responsibility upon us, deprive us of any choice!"

"Calm down, dear. This is quite unlike you. Every champion until now were not bound by restrictions – a by-product of being ruled by the priests. I couldn't change the rules of engagement, so I reset the fields, made new champions…and new rules to go with them. Now, piss off. I'm already in enough trouble with this damned avatar, having you badgering me and using up your time doesn't help either of us. You will kill her, and that will be that. Don't bloody badger me about it again, you will find no answers!"

In a howling tornado of noise and a brief flash of pain, Menthis was cast back into her body. It was as she expected; he wasn't going to budge. If you were neutral you had no obligations either way, so he couldn't be swayed to any particular reasoning, and she couldn't confront him…she didn't yet know where he was, or what he looked like. He had been lucky enough to find a host before he ran out of energy, and now she couldn't safely track him…well, in the end, there would be one of two outcomes.

Either they would break free, or one would kill the other. Best to prepare for every eventuality.

Pushing back from the small wooden table and chair she had been sitting at – pointless really, she was going to dissolve the pocket-dimension when done anyway – but it just felt more natural to stand before you left. In response to her thought patterns the colour began to dissolve, the whole room – very pain – undulating as the walls of reality broke off and disappeared into the heart of creation and oblivion, and Menthis floated off into nothingness, absent-mindedly flicking through the realities for somewhere to go. For now it didn't matter what she did regarding her sister, she had to gather forces – another one of the damned rules.

He'd been thorough in determining their fate, to be sure; she couldn't find any loopholes, at least not at her end. Ideally, she needed someone neutral to carry messages.

That would have to wait.

Time for a little acting.

* * *

Aiira tossed another pebble into the sea, watching it sail out to about half a mile before bursting into bright scarlet flames as she directed her psychic will onto it. It was already becoming boring, and she had work to do…a little longer. This was all new, she needed to calm down a bit.

Lying back on the sand she took handfuls of it, testing it. Sand…they didn't have it where she came from, but she knew of it regardless – one of the many things that ascension to champion and brought with it.

She had to admit, it was kinda nice, there was a whole load of stuff she could do now. It meant a holiday…if she could ever get back, at least. A tear dripped from her eye to the gritty sand she lay on at the thought…she had heard the explosion, but not of the destruction it may have wrought. Menthis had seen it coming, so why hadn't she? Ugh…well, if what she had been taught was anything to go by, she would have to die.

Another tear…dragged into a war she had known nothing about. Good and evil, simple balance…what had happened to it all? If what she was being told was true…champion of light, she had to gather allies, win the war. Her hands released the sand and moved up in front of her face. Perfectly smooth, different hands. She didn't want to complain, she liked this body, it was better than her own, but it would take some getting used to.  
What sort of war, anyway? She spoke aloud the words that had been used, phrased in the tongue of the gods.

"One of light and one of dark, fates burning bright in the endless destruction. One shall rise and one shall fall, no impasse can be reached, no deal can be brokered. Each backed by warriors that respect their purpose, champions of their worlds, demagogues all, council sought, taken or dismissed, this thus marks the end of all that will and all that is." It made no more sense than when it began. There would be a war, that much was clear, she was the light…she needed to find the darkness, and she needed allies to help her.

This consciousness she had stumbled upon might be the first step, one way or another. Practise, work on it…sword-work, another thing to sort out. Leaning up on her elbows she glanced up at the stars once again, then vaulted to her feet. Time to test another one of her new abilities.

Extending one hand, Aiira called out to Syr, the blade granted to the champion of light. The sword wasn't her natural weapon of choice – she had formerly felt more at home with the spear, the reach it gave, but since the transformation her thinking had shifted, the long-sword seemed like a weapon she could now be more at home with, more versatile, a weapon you could use no matter what, perfectly balanced.

Fragments of light started to form in the air around her, converging on a line, merging with each other and shaping themselves into something not quite real. The blade she saw was simple, four-feet in length with no embellishment, the hand guard two bars of the same glowing white stuff of reality. Indeed, it was a weapon she was honoured to be wielding.

Aiira began to train on that beach. She knew the moves of course – they had been imprinted in her mind during the transformation – but she had not yet used them, they were untested in her hand, so she started to get the feel for it: Thrusts, slashes, dodges, parries, feints, more exotic moves that I cannot put names to, and then she started to use her body more, elbows, feet, a brutal combination of blade and body.

As she finished the routine, a practise that had taken the better part of an hour, Aiira felt a presence nearby…nothing distinct yet; she still had work to do on that. Syr stayed ready, playing it safe. Dying wasn't her part of the prophecy, after all.

"I saw you from the tower." The voice came from the wood that edged the beach.

"But you still chose stealth?" She didn't have time for this.

"You asked me to find you; you didn't ask how." Ooohhh…this was the mind she had conversed with…well, it was a step in the right direction, at least.  
"Well, you also said you would help me get some practise. We can't do that if you hide in the shadows." A pretty obvious attempt to draw the other out of the darkness, but you always tried the obvious before going to more subtle methods.

"I'm still deciding whether or not to trust you, and I don't make mistakes." It was a voice of a girl – a young woman, likely, but they weren't normal, not if they could walk freely through the mindscape without being discovered. Aiira frowned as she thought things through.

"Would you rather I put Syr away? It-"

"Syr? Oh, the blade. I don't see it making a difference – It's made out of raw power. I know the rules for those weapons."

Aiira shrugged, not really worried either way. This mysterious other had it right; she could recall the blade whenever she wanted, so for now it mattered very little whether or not she was actually holding it. "How about a name, then? We should at least know each other if we plan on doing any real intimidation."

"Fine, whatever. It's Raven."

"Why am I not surprised? Sounds about right. I'm Aiira, at least, I think that's what I'm still called. I don't know if I got given a new name – it's possible, I guess."

"Try making sense. You're not casting spells, so stop trying to speak like you are." Great, now this 'Raven' sounded even worse for wear.

"I'm still trying to get over the fact that I'm suddenly well over an eternity in age, and trying to work out what all this knowledge is for. Give me a damn break…and I don't want to keep talking to the air around me. Show yourself before I make you."

"Fuck's sake…" a shadow detached from the treeline, even so barely any more substantial in the darkness. The figure became apparent, wrapped in a dark blue cloak, the hood concealing the face aside from a pair of dark eyes and a small red jewel that seemed just pointless. "Happy now?"

"Not really, but I have many more questions, most of which you probably won't have the answer to. Now, how about we try and resolve this impasse and see where things go from there? I can tell you're pissed off at having to deal with this, but you're going to have to get past that or neither of us are going anywhere."

"Yea, you're right. I am pissed off. Pissed off because I have to put down a dozen super villains a day, pissed off that I have to keep five loose cannons under control, and pissed off that I have to deal with a raw mind running around the place. Yes, I'm pissed off, and I hope you take it as credit that I am managed to keep my own power under control at the minute."

"Yea, and I'm nothing to do with any of it, so don't take it out on me. I'm being civil, at least do me the courtesy of returning the favour. Since your problem seems to be the lesser of the two, how about you explain to me what it is, and what we're going to do about it?"

* * *

_I have to give Aiira credit, she was coping remarkably well for the situation. Before now her life wasn't that bad, she was doing alright in her studies, enough friends to get by…being pulling into a war is most definitely something she wouldn't have wanted. Yea, when I got dragged into this living hell my life before had been shit in a can sitting in a microwave – it could barely have gotten any worse. What happened to me – you'll find out, don't worry about it – made my life a whole lot better. My life in that hellhole ended and a new hell began, sure it was a trade but it's good enough…what happened to me was nothing compared to the pain Aiira and Menthis were forced to endure._


	3. Meet the Titans ii

"Is this such a good idea?"

"Is what?"

"Introducing me to other people? I'm not exactly demure, here."

"I'm taking you to people like me and you – different. I can't exactly sneak out every night to help you out, so you might as well bunk with us for a bit while we work out what to do."

"I don't have a great deal of time here, you know." Aiira crossed her arms indignantly.

"Do you want to learn some semblance of control? I've had to do it all my life, and I know how to. At the minute I'm not caring what you need to do, but I want to avoid having the world fall apart on us if you do something you don't fully know how to control." Raven interposed herself between Aiira and the short walk left from the base of the island to the tower door. "I haven't spent my life with these impetuous idiots to let it all come crashing down."

Aiira didn't break motion, sidestepping around Raven with a pat on the shoulder, "Don't worry, you wouldn't feel it if I did." She explained, continuing along the pathway. The tower rose ahead, a giant 'T' shaped structure with an almost entirely glass-front. It wasn't a great hideout, if you wanted to stay hidden, but apparently these guys liked the spotlight. "Could you get any more obvious?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as the blue-caped Titan glided past.

"It wasn't my idea, ok? Just…get inside, and meet the others. We have a lot to do in a very short time." Raven's voice stayed at the same low-key, slightly irritated by the lack of cooperation. But then, she was always like that – she had always been frustrated by the life she led. Aiira shrugged and followed.

The massive pair of sliding doors opened with the disturbing of dust, and Aiira looked into the gloom at the base of the tower. More presences…easier to detect now she had done it before…four of them at least. She saw where they were, but I don't think she expected them to be so…hostile. From the darkness a bright speck of blue light appeared, and then a beam of sound given form – she could tell, it had been in the information – jumping, the beam sailed underneath as she used the momentum to carry herself into the room proper, delivering a kick to the source of the beam and receiving a loud grunt in protest.

Something else glimmered at the corner of her vision, a spinning orb, green this time. Now, I remind you that Aiira was already a proficient fighter, but she was fresh, unused to it, and didn't react fast enough to evade the orb. It detonated on her arm, tossing her away into the air. Reaching out with her mind, Aiira straightened and hit the wall, feet first, dropping back to the floor quickly. She spent a moment marvelling at the little green orb – concentrated kinetic energy, quite effective. The decay back into the atmosphere generated the excess light energy, the decay itself colouring it green – before she was moving again, passing over and under, again and again, to evade the lights as they gouged chunks from the walls.

"Everyone stop!" Raven's voice was not particularly powerful, but it commanded, and did not broker any disagreement. "Will you stop all acting like children? Did anything tip you off to the fact I wasn't attacking? Grow up a little and use your heads!" she allowed a moment of anger to escape, and a corona of energy briefly flared around her. The attacks stopped – with alarming rapidity.

"Well what are we supposed to do when someone like that approaches the tower?" a Brazilian accepted voice came from the shadows.  
"Maybe think a little, meathead! Now get us some damn lights, and maybe you can actually see who you're talking to." A light switch was flicked and the whole scene was thrown into clarity. Aiira had come closer to actual combat than she'd thought. One of the four, a short teenager with gelled hair held a bo-staff about a foot from her face, and…there was a bear? A green bear? A green grizzly sitting on its haunches a few feet further away, scratching the side of its head.

"Will someone tell me who you all are, and then what that thing is?" she gestured to the bear, "I haven't been on this planet for long, but I'm pretty sure you don't have those, at least, not in that colour."

The bo-staff retracted – telescopic, it seemed – to a foot of metal that the boy stowed in his belt. Once the equipment was away, he offered a short, but dramatic bow with the hem of his cloak. "I'm Robin, ma'am. My apologies for the welcoming party."

As he stood properly and they properly looked at each other, she framed a reply. "I hope that I don't get this everywhere I go, or I am going to be waiting for some time. Who're the others?"

He didn't look particularly happy with the response, but didn't follow up on it, tipping his head slightly, and pointing at each of the other members in turn. "Cyborg." The Brazilian. "Starfire." Yes, the fourth presence – she was hovering, but looked otherwise much like a scantily clad – sorry, I have limited descriptive powers when it comes to women – human girl. "Changeling." He pointed at…the bear? Well, something was definitely up here. "You've already met Raven."

"I think I'm missing something here…are you the only one who isn't…you know, weird?"

At that he looked kind of abashed. "Yea, well, I kind of don't need powers."

"Seriously, that guy cracks concrete without breaking a sweat!" a small, green humanoid snipped in. _Where did he come from?_ Aiira furrowed her brow. The bear – oh, that was it, he was a shape shifter.

"Not a bad accolade – you ever considered becoming a builder?"

"Nah, hours aren't flexible enough." Robin replied with a grin. "Pay isn't great either."

"Alright, now we have the tedium of introductions out of the way, we're starting training. Now." Raven cut across the banter, gliding across the room. The others stepped aside slightly, as if…afraid of her. She entered the stairway and disappeared without another word to the others.

"What was that all about?" Cyborg asked.

"I'm not exactly…proficient in using my powers. Not yet, and Raven wanted to teach me. More for safety than any real concern." Aiira gave in reply.  
"Well, look out. Raven ain't been…well…in much of a good mood lately. I mean, she's always in a bad mood, but…more than usual."

Aiira frowned. She knew why, at least, she thought she did, and it wasn't a very fortunate case. "Is there anything unusual I should know about her?"

"Well, half of her is that _city-destroying d-_" Changeling's explanation was cut off as Robin elbowed him in the ribs.

"Nothing you need to know for now. It's kind of personal to her – she'll tell you if she wants. She gets touchy if we start talking behind her back."  
Aiira nodded in understand and set off up the stairs, pausing in the doorway. "Hey, maybe we can talk later, if I have any spare time."

"She has to let you stop for something to eat."

"Have fun convincing her – I don't need food. None of my race do." Then she moved on, and didn't see the expression of utter terror etched on Changeling's face. For a few seconds he was mute, making animated expressions in a variety of different animal forms, until finally he recovered enough to say something. "Wha-" was about as far as he made it, before faking a collapse and passing out on the floor.

"I'll carry him up to his room…" Cyborg complained, hefting the small green man onto his shoulder and setting off up the stairs, the rest of the Titans in tow.

* * *

"Have you ever needed to meditate before?"

"Nope, my power comes naturally."

"So does mine. That's the point of it. You meditate to control it." Raven snapped. They were on top of the tower – Raven doesn't like anyone in her room, after all – in the early morning sun. Raven sat cross-legged and levitating slightly off the ground, prepared to enter the state of meditation, but that attention wavered as she attempted to convince Aiira to do likewise. "Meditation increases the power of your mind, tempers power and puts it under control."

"I fail to see how this applies to me." Aiira snapped her fingers, and watched as the air distorted and tugged, Syr forcing itself back into realspace. The weapon dropped into her outstretched hand, gaining weight in the same moment it became real, and she swung it a couple of times experimentally, the blade spinning in her hand and cutting the air past her shoulders. "Pretty much every power I'm capable of has come with limits built into them."

Raven's eyes opened, legs moving back into the folds of her cloak as she allowed gravity to reassert control and return her to standing. "Then why am I doing this?" she swept past Aiira, towards the tower hatch.

"Why are you?" Aiira stood resolute, arms folded and eyes narrowing. "What happened to patience and control?"

"I can't teach you any, if you aren't willing to learn."

"And I can't learn if you aren't willing to teach. Don't treat me like some bunked-up schoolgirl who has no idea what she's doing. I'm easy as old as you and this form has been around even longer. You said you hold these guys together? Prove it." It was as good as any confrontational speech she had made before. "I've been at this job for two weeks and you think I've had a chance to even get to grips with what I am anymore? I got pulled from my home and stuffed into this body, and told to go fight a war that involves a great deal of what you hold dear to you! You have problems, don't make me the outlet – I already have enough." The last words were edged with contempt, contempt for this girl who gave not even the slightest pause to consider others, who tossed away outsiders forgetting she was one herself.

There was a moment's pause as Raven's footsteps stopped and silence descended, both unsure of the next move to make.

"So you're quite ready to give," Raven commented without turning, "but let's see how much you're willing to take." With that she spun, hands flying out and from them an inky blackness that wrapped itself into a beam of the stuff, arcing through the air. Aiira had not been prepared for the attack, but she had been a fighter before this, and dived away before impact could be made, flicking her hand out, casting a few thin wisps of blazing light towards the grey-skinned girl. One arm went up and with it a shield of the same translucent power. Her spare hand twitched out to the side, the darkness engulfing a few stray pebbles and sending them spinning through the air.

Syr lashed out of its own accord, countering each bit of rock, shattering them against an edge harder than the toughest of diamond. She fought defensively – taking each attack and nullifying it, but no more. She was willing to fight, but she wasn't in this to harm, not yet anyway.

Another spear of shadow, this time Aiira's turn with the glowing white shield. "What the hell is this meant to do?" she shouted as Raven began to chant, low tones with words that resonated in the darkness of the ether. The shadows began to gather about the pale demon-girl, forming into something far more substantial…a giant raven! A giant black raven! It explained the nickname – it was her signature, her token. Well, well, this was a treat.

Aiira rose to the challenge, Syr alighting with white fire and humming as if electrified, all in anticipation. The raven in darkness billowed forward, and Aiira swung Syr in the classic definition of a parry, and instead of the blade passing through the darkness as one would expect, the two met in a burst of spitting energy, waves of light and darkness snapping at each combatant as well as their avatars. A brilliant display broke them apart, the raven shrinking back down into its host and Syr returning to the guarded position as both noticed the stalemate.

"Alright, so you can use a sword well enough, and some fairly basic defensive manoeuvres."

"Do I still have to go through your spitting and jabbing if I'm going to do this training?"

"Maybe. I wanted to see how serious you actually were about this. As I said, I can't teach if you won't learn."

"We're not going through that again. Are you going to drop the attitude and help or not?" she crossed her arms, tapping one foot on the ground in irritation.

"You'll find that my 'attitude' is for your own safety. I don't know what you're like when you lose control, but believe me you don't want to be there when I do." Her arms lowered, disappearing back into the cloak. "Go out alongside the team next time there's a mission. I'll watch from here, see how well you handle things."

"Right. Then I guess we're done for now." Aiira sidestepped Raven, dropping into the hatch, leaving it ajar for the Titan to follow when she wished. She didn't look back, for she knew that the girl wasn't moving. Raven had a lot going on in her head, most of it wasn't her choice, and she had a hard life – she had seen it in her surface thoughts. She couldn't find out more yet, for she was not confident enough yet to delve into that mind, and even when she could…well, it would be impolite to say the least.

The tower was no maze – she had memorised the map on the way up, orientating herself at any and each junction before continuing, and peering rounds corners she could not yet explore. She knew enough to make her way about for now. Memory engrams, wonderful things.

She walked into the living room to the accompaniment of explosions and screeching tires. She dropped low, glancing round for the source of the noise – she knew what the sounds meant, generally, but had never heard them before.

"Relax. It's a game, they use it to pass the time." Robin's words explained everything, along with his vague motion to the giant television screen. Changeling and Cyborg were positioned on the large circular sofa in front of it, both mashing the buttons on a pair of controllers, the teched-out vehicles on the screen following their motions.

"Oh. It's not a pastime on our world." She replied, standing properly. "Most of our spare time is spent reading, training or in various mental challenges. We learn in almost everything we do."

"Sounds like Raven would enjoy it there."

"I doubt it. And no, I don't want to tell you why. Every race and species has its darkness. The one mine shares is probably one of the vilest." She shook off his unasked question, brushing past him lightly into the room. "She wanted me to come out with you guys next time you have to put someone down, to see what I can do."

"If Raven isn't coming, can you stand in for her? It might make things go a little smoother."

"I don't see why not. I still have to learn cooperation, but don't expect me to shape-shift and borrow that swimsuit piece of clothing she wears all the time."

From over by the television Changeling sniggered at the comment, inadvertently twitching the control and veering off the raised track his vehicle had been pelting along, and a cheer went up from Cyborg as the bionic man found himself in the lead. Robin grinned himself, but went no further, knowing that not everything people said was always meant to be an innuendo.

"I don't think that will be necessary." He managed to say, before the alarm went off.

"How convenient." Aiira observed, deadpan, watching as the game buzzed from the screen to be replaced by a blueprint map of the city, a single red light winking in the corner. "So that's our target? We know who it is?"

"Hey, hey, I can only move so fast." Cyborg waved his hand, the other tapping at the keyboard to access city security cameras until the screen shrank, other images pushing in from the side. The cameras, showing scarcely more than a shadow and some ambient red lights. "Robin, your thieving friend is back. That xenothium obviously hasn't run out yet."

"Who is he?" Aiira asked, still oblivious to who it was.

"He's called Red X." Robin began to explain. "I made the suit for an undercover Op a while back, but locked it away, then he stole it. We still haven't found out what his name is."

"Let's go people, come on, time's a-wasting!" Cyborg clapped his hands, galvanising them all into action. "You can take the car with me." He offered, jabbing a thumb into his own steel-plated chest.

"Thanks, but I can fly – or run. Whichever we need."

"Fly then, go with Starfire, she'll show you the ropes." He didn't question how – to her immense relief.

* * *

"I've been picking up these for a good couple of years now, and each time I ask you all vote on a matter of substance that I'm too hold of these investigations."

"Due to the potential daemonic threat thou ist commanded as thus. The council shall debate further on the matter of thine rebellious nature and-"

"I intend to pursue the matter now, regardless of whether or not you consent to it or not."

"Thou shalt risk thine authority?"

"It's no risk to me. After all, think about what I know, how hard I am to kill, and how dangerous an enemy you would gain. I am going to find this, and you are not going to try and stop me."

* * *

When I finally asked, Menthis admitted – in confidence – that when she visited the first place, she didn't really know where she had ended up. Her blade split the stuff of reality, she passed through and closed it with her mind, knitting it tightly together as if it were a piece of cloth in a sewing machine, then finally she looked to see where she had been taken. To be frank, it looked very bleak and depressing, more so than the expression she had adorned. The landscape was a barren, rocky wasteland of various shades of grey. In the distance a vast column of smoke rose from a collection of buildings that took up the greater part of one of the horizons. She had attempted to take the portal somewhere where darkness held sway, and thus it probably lay in that direction, and so she set off towards it. Her power flowed to her legs, and she began to run, faster, quicker, more elegantly, until she was travelling at about three-hundred miles per hour. The landscape became a blur but she watched it flash by in perfect detail, skirting around rocks or other features of the landscape without breaking step.

That is not to say that she saw the artillery shell coming, however.

It detonated a few metres off-target, throwing her sideways from the point of impact as she became well aware of the sound of other falling shells, high-pitched whining attacking her ears even as shrapnel attacked the rest of her. Asa, her own blade, a similar make to Aiira's and pitch black, exploded violently into reality and lashed out at shards that threatened its wielder. Menthis felt more in control that Aiira had – more time practising, a higher understanding of the weapon, it responded to her more, was more attuned with her than Aiira was with Syr.

Momentarily a dark prescience seized her and she took a leap of faith, hurling Asa into the sky from her hands, the gamble paying off as the shell exploded well out of damaging range. The blade returned to her hand unbidden, task complete, and Menthis resumed the sprint before the artillery emplacements that were firing could draw a new bead now their first salvo had been extinguished.

Looking properly now, she saw the barrel flash as the weapons ignited their payload, delivering another few tonnes of death into the skies, and she decided to try something new. Drawing in on her will and reaching forward, she found the weapons in her mind's eye, glowing as if…alive. No matter. Drawing on her reservoir of power she directed a massive surge of kinetic energy into the first gun emplacement, holding it all tightly within control until the last minute as she snapped back to her own vision to watch the spectacular detonation. Normally, the target would have been tossed about – with that much energy, probably with most of their organs pulped in the process – but to a fixed object, the damage was magnified one-hundredfold.

She tried again, moving ahead briefly before the latest salvo could make impact, but this time focussed on the crewmen manning it, and tried heat energy, several thousand degrees of it. Holding it all in check was difficult, she realised, and she released it before she was quite prepared.

Nonetheless as she withdrew she was quite sure that the crew members had just been cooked thoroughly. She checked her reserves – probably not a good idea to try that again, or use much other sort of power, for that matter. She needed to expand her horizons a little, increase the pool of power she was able to draw on. To do that would require time and patience…she had time for one more shot. She energised a little of the remainder into a small crackling orb in the palm of her left hand, then threw it, quite calmly, like a tennis ball, into the joining line on a ridge in the landscape. The darkness in the orb exploded into vacuum calculated to drag the rock out with enough force to pulverize it. The result was more or less what she intended – an alcove, safe from the eye-level and some measure of natural protection against the elements and the bombardment which showed promises of continuing.

Diving into it she muttered an incantation and threw up a shield that would block out the noise and hopefully the explosions and shrapnel.  
Well, it explained the wasteland, she thought, as she properly settled in; constant shelling like this would wreck any environment, especially if they took to shelling _everything_ that came into range. Once she had finished the enhancement, the next objective would be to push forward and work out how much cooperation these guys were willing to offer. She may not look it…but Menthis was a shrewd negotiator.

Well, would you disagree with someone who can pop your brains at almost any distance?

* * *

_Aiira was still coming to terms with what she could do, she was fresh to the fight and knew less about it than I or Menthis. Well, truth be told, I knew very little about it too, but by this time I had been given plenty of room to figure things out…a good many things. I knew about Aiira, though I had not yet met her, and I knew that we would need each other's help to make it through this. She was more powerful than I was individually, but I had influence that she did not. I too had been given a prophecy, and so of course, I had taken more extreme measures, given the more extensive time period I had available to me. Still…_


	4. Meet the Titans iii

"I feel like I'm getting something wrong here. Am I missing something?"

"What do you mean?"

"You guys don't have any problems, with the locals, I mean?"

"When I came to Earth, humans were not very kind to me, but Robin and all my friends took me in."

"I mean you Titans, generally. Don't you have any problems with people getting curious? Where I come from, any forays into local space were always dangerous to say the least, and we oft had to fight one race or another before we could land on another planet." Aiira was finding conversation with Starfire was fairly interesting, to say the least, and they had at least one thing in common; they were both strangers to Earth. They had some time to locate Red X, and the time during flight was spent getting to know each other.

"You're people are warriors, then?" She liked Starfire – the Tamaranian only asked questions that were important, or helped her understand something. With her there were no wasted questions or answers – like Raven, but with more flowers and somewhat hyperactive.

"We're all able to be. Part of our learning is focussed on combat – mostly for the discipline of the mind, which helps with the academic side of things, but the training still makes us competent fighters, at least. Not everyone is as powerful as me, however. Most of us can't even do some of the most standard things I am capable of."

"You're unique?"

"That's probably the best word for it. But what about you, Tamaranian? I'm here to find friends, what keeps you grounded on this planet?"

Starfire's reply was simple, but spoke entire volumes. "Robin." Of course, it still took a couple of seconds to sink in before Aiira understood what she meant, and found herself thankful that her race didn't have the blood colour that allowed blushing.

"You found someone suited to you. If only I were to be as fortunate." The white-skinned alien sighed softly, the sound drowned out by the air rushing past. Immortality, in this form, with no knowledge of how to return home, it did not allow for much hope of finding a relationship that would work.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the girl. "You will." Was all she said. The statement seemed so naïve, but at the same time concerned and comforting, and she would have said so had they not been interrupted, mid-sentence by Robin.

"Guys, I've got a lock on him. He's broken into the standard place, one of the three city banks. Let's do this like we're meant to be professional. Star, Aiira, you two take overwatch from above, tell us if he tries to make a break for it. I'll be waiting for the call. Cy, Gar, you two hit him as fast and as hard as you can."

As the team sent various confirmations to each other, Aiira glanced across at Starfire, the pair having slowed to a halt in the air. "Gar?" she inquired.

"Changeling's real name is Garfield." She replied with a companionable giggle. Though her extra-terrestrial origins, the peculiarity of the name was not lost on Aiira, who smiled at the idea. Fitting, then, that he could turn into animals, before another idea struck her. Of all the information they had included, why an adolescent's film about a talking cat? How could that have possibly been of any real use in any situation other than this one?

"So what are we looking for?" she asked, directing it at Robin through the communicator.

"You probably won't see much of him from up there in the dark, but he uses lots of red. Watch for big red explosions near our signal and you can't go far wrong."

* * *

Down on the ground, the blue and chrome paintwork of the 'T-car' slewed to a halt in front of the shattered bank doorway, Cyborg and Changeling jumping from the car doors. Cyborg's arm twitched slightly, then rearranged itself, the hand folding aside to make way for the sonic cannon, his signature weapon. Beside him, the little green man we all know as Changeling shifted, growing fur and a tail, curling into the form of a monkey. Why he took that particular form, I don't know. What I do know is that they target burst from the bank a few moments later, the contents of at least two of the vaults in a pressurised contained strapped to the man's back.

Perhaps now would be a good time to full describe Red X. As a man he is quite wiry, yet tough, and just as agile and versed in the art of combat as Robin – it seems that they learned similar techniques – though I cannot tell you much more about his personal appearance, though he is a similar height to Robin. Once again an obvious statement, as the suit was built by Robin, for Robin, and stolen by this Red X character. Robin used the suit in undercover missions, while Red X uses it to steal and fight, always to his advantage even at the neglect of others.

And the suit…I must admit, even by my standards it is an impressive piece of equipment. The actual fabric is cotton, interwoven with an aluminium-titanium compound mesh, making a cloth that is flexible, resilient and entirely rust-proof. Interlaced with that is also fine strands of copper, protected by the first compound and used to carry the current and signals to the suit's many systems. Ah yes, the suit has a great deal of things it can do. Powered by Xenothium, an extremely rare – and I do not use the world lightly – energy source, the suit's functions ranged from diamond-hard wrist-blades, to elasti-form compounds to even a shadow-edge teleportation system. I do not list all of the functions, though this record will show you a few more.

The moment the villain saw the two Titans, the lop-sided X on his left pectoral began to glow as a suit's monitoring systems detected a rise in brain activity, shifting into a more combat oriented readiness. He moved fast, a stream of shurikens casting from his outstretched palms, cutting the air between him and the other two. Midway the miniature discs exploded with muffled thumping noises, releasing clouds of thick, cloying smoke into the air. A moment to appreciate his handiwork, then ducking as Cyborg began firing, bionic eye unperturbed by the dark clouds and clearly sighting the man as he made his move, flipping athletically over each strike. Through the darkness, Cyborg heard his voice, taunting him. "Have you still not learned how to shoot that thing?"

It was a jab at him – an unfortunately accurate one. His accuracy had never been great, despite his genetic enhancements and aim stabiliser, his shots often fell off their mark. No problem when the target was the size of a barn, but not so useful if they were this lithe and agile.

However, it went some way to explain why Changeling chose the form he did. Though he had to bound through the smoke, the multi-limbed and multi-jointed monkey kept pace with Red X as the two began to fight, fists and feet trading strikes with each other second after second, but of course, this villain would prove to be the superior. He was trained, and though Changeling had a form that could keep pace, Changeling as a person could not – he took one strike, a foot to the midriff, and it was effectively over – his defence crumbled as the wind was knocked out of him, and more punches and blows strike him before a finisher sent him spinning off into the darkness, reverting to his original form from the pain.

Aiira watched this from above, and before the man fled the smoke, her eyes had pierced the veil and seen the fight, and Robin was already in pursuit. His bike cornered, drifting to conserve speed, rocketing through the dense smoke with no apparent regard for the two other Titans floundering about, but he had more control than you could expect. His mask, a sophisticated AI program, held a heads-up-display, and as he passed out of the range of normal vision it switched to infra-red, the two incapacitated team members showing up as bright red forms, and he altered is course to avoid them, passing out the other side with streams of ash coating his bike, tearing off in the wind.

Once again, the villain was one step ahead, the ground exploding beneath the Titan in a shower of rock and concrete, as trip-mines thrown as an afterthought detonated, hurling the bike and its occupant into the air.

Now, this is where I find that Red X met his match against Robin – the young man sprung from the saddle before he made landfall again, the bike skidding and scraping on the ground behind him as the momentum carried him forward towards his fleeing opponent, a pair of discs flying from his belt to detonate in front of the black-garbed villain to cut off his escape route. It worked, to some effect at least. He stopped to allow the explosions to happen without him being in the middle of it, and spun on his heel to face Robin directly.

"Come on, Robin." He began, his voice deepened and unidentifiable, another thanks to the suit, "I always escape, you know that. Tonight isn't going to be any different."

"If tonight isn't going to be different, you should know we're going to try. But this night is going to be different – we're going to win."

"Just keep telling yourself that. Thanks for supplying my escape route, by the way." He wasted no more time on banter, sprinting off into the cloud of debris left by the detonator-discs, the Titan giving chase the moment the other had begun to move. At the choking cloud he paused, sounds of repeated impact echoing in the gloom…before Red X stumbled out again, clearly disoriented and bereft of the sealed containers. Aiira followed him from the dust, tossing aside the container full of money.

In this moment's lull, the villain looked up at Robin. "Nice girl you've got there, fast…bet she fucks like-" …that was a mistake. The moment he had started to phrase that little insult, he had basically sealed his fate. She moved when he was halfway through, hand clamping around his throat, and in a motion that seemed to discard him, she tossed the man aside into the concrete wall of the nearest building. The impact made a dent in the building, and left Red X unconscious, such was the force of the blow, combined with the beating he had received in the dust cloud.  
And that was it – the fight was effectively over. Aiira dragged the villain from the building to the floor, turning back to Robin when she was sure he still lived.

"He'll hurt for a while, but I didn't kill him." She explained, to placate the young man.

"Good choice." Robin thanked her, "we don't kill if we can avoid it."

"Do you have a problem with killing?"

"Not particularly. We've all had to kill someone at some point, but we're vigilantes. We don't have a great immunity from the law, so we're only off the hook if the criminal is brought in alive, unless they specifically tell us we can do what we want. But here isn't the best place to talk about it." He drifted over to where Red X lay, plucking the utility belt from the man's waist.

"Why are you-" Aiira was still in the dark about exactly how the suit worked. Robin explained of course.

"The suit is powered by xenothium, you know. The belt converts it into safe energy. Without it, each time he uses a core it will blow up in his face. Hopefully he's smart enough to work that out, after having this done to him before."

"So you know who he is?"

"Not yet. Every time he's escaped somehow, but I took his belt the first time, and he retrieved it. He's a thief, and he knew how to get it back. I can't destroy it – the core is too unstable to be disposed of safely."

"Want to find out? He's lying unconscious only a few feet from where you're standing."

"I can't take the suit off him. It monitors the user's neural activity, so it can be used without talking. He would need to want to take the mask off for me to be able to." His hand went to his communicator. "Alright guys, we're done here. Let's all get back to the tower."

* * *

"So are all these missions like this?"

"More or less, nowadays. We used to just rush into things, hoping to not hit each other and actually land a telling blow on whoever the bad guy was that time around. Things kinda changed when Cyborg hit twenty and we stopped calling ourselves Teen Titans, it's just the Titans now."

"You grew up."

"Basically. Most of us are eighteen now, but Garfield is kinda lagging. He's still got a month or so to go before he catches up." Robin pushed himself from the sofa to go and get a coke from the fridge. The Titans were non-alcoholics, for various reasons, though primarily because they wouldn't be able to fight evil very well if they were tripping over each other's shoes and vomiting on the pavement. Cyborg was the only one who could realistically drink beer or the like – his system automatically filtered out toxins, and that included alcohol.

Speaking of which, Cyborg was on the phone.

"Yea, yea don't- it's alright just- listen! I got everything under control for when you get back. You're on holiday, just enjoy it. Come on, just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I get everything wrong- alright alright. Jinx, listen, listen- don't worry. I'm doing this for you, so I am not going to mess it up even if the world gets in the way." He walked from the room then, and Aiira didn't catch any more of it, but quizzed Robin on it when he sat back down.

"Who's Jinx?" it was a reasonable enough question.

"Cyborg's girlfriend." He replied nonchalantly, dropping back into his seat with the open can. "He had a crush on her a while back, they got together about a year ago, after she turned good."

"What, so she was evil when he had a crush on her? Didn't that cause complications?"

"Well, he got to know her on an undercover op. when he had to infiltrate the school for super villains that she was attending. They had a dance, stuff like that. Actually it was Kid Flash who turned her good a couple of years back – they were together until she dumped him – two months later she and Cyborg were together. I don't know the specifics, I didn't ask."

They lounged about in the tower's living room. Raven had not yet appeared, or summoned anyone in any way, so Aiira was taking the chance to get to know the Titans a little more.

Changeling had leapt back onto the computer the moment he got back, and Cyborg had checked his phone, leaving Robin and Starfire as the only practical people to converse with – you don't interrupt Changeling when he's playing, unless you're Cyborg – or mad.

"So what about you and Starfire?" Aiira pressed, nodding towards the Tamaranian at the other end of the sofa. "What's the deal between you and her?"

"Oh? Me and her have been together for a couple of years now, since an incident in Tokyo." He slurped noisily from the can, then sniggered as Changeling grunted in annoyance from the sound.

"It took us ages to actually admit it."

"Well, you did, at least. It's painful knowing the attraction is there but being unable to admit it."

"What about you then?" Robin swigged from the can again. "Anyone special?"

"Probably, I dunno." Aiira replied with a shrug. "There might have been, or might still be. If there was, I won't ever manage to make contact with him. I don't know how to return to my home planet. It's sealed from me."

"Then look somewhere else. It worked for me and Star."

That was true, very true. It got Aiira thinking – there might be someone else, out in the infinite universe, but even then…

"If there is, I won't drag him into this. If I really do find I have someone out there for me, I wouldn't cause them the pain of having to be a part of my journey."

"That's right, you never said. What's this all about?"

Aiira looked at him, then decided to explain. "Well, you see, my people are part of this nexus at the centre of the universe…"

* * *

_When I heard about this point in her life, it made me very happy, I tell you now. The pain she had already been through, the loss and the suffering she would have to endure…truly it was the calm before the storm. I don't think she could have come across a better group to get to know. The Titans have their quirks, yes, each to their own little peculiarities, but they were accustomed to powers and aliens, and a being like Aiira could quickly intermingle with them. I must admit now that when I met them, my attitude did not allow for such easy conversation, at least not to begin with._

* * *

Up close, the hive city was larger, but definitely less impressive. At a distance the massive gun-podiums and weapon systems looked powerful and imposing, but now, as Menthis stood at the city wall, she could see exactly how bad things were. Most of the city-killers had pieces missing, or had rusted over so badly as to be unusable. You would have to cannibalise most of them to get even a fifth of them properly operational again. Shitty workmanship, she put it down to. The artillery fire had stopped after the spectacular deaths of one crew, the explosion of another cannon, and the god Cthulhu advancing on the city. The god had of course been a clever illusion, and Menthis now felt it was a little tacky, but she had been in a hurry and the good tentacle-monster-god had been the first one to spring to mind. The gates were open for her, and she entered slowly, wreathed in an aura of dark fire to impress whoever the natives were this time.

Humans, it so turned out, and lots of them, shambling from homes and cowering in fear at her. Most of them were dressed in rags or poorly maintained clothes, but a group of soldiers, wearing shabby but serviceable uniforms and peculiar symbols branded around their faces trotted up to her, weapons live and ready.

"Oo's this then?" the man's accent was lop-sided and primitive, as if he felt more at home speaking in grunts than any civilised language.

"Ask that question again, properly the next time, and maybe you can keep your tongue instead of having it sliced off." Menthis replied calmly, ignoring the dozen or so guns raised at her as she insulted him cleanly. "Put those weapons away if you all want to live. Bullets are fast, but I'm faster."

"Shad it!" the leader snapped, still in that lilting dialect.

"Do you want me to do to you what I did to the gunnery crew?" Menthis asked politely, "or do you want to lower those weapons and even get to kill something, maybe?"

"Oi, listen, shad ya yap-" he doubtless had something more to say, but Menthis didn't like him very much anymore. She moved, a dark blur against a dark background, Asa cackling as it cut the air and then flesh and bone, sailing through the leader with its wielder and all, finishing the brief sprint behind the group.

It took a moment or so for the sound and sight to catch up. A line of light traced across the man's midriff, followed seconds later by a slash of blood before the human crumpled in two pieces. The others were too stunned by the movement to react the way they had been trained.

"Now…" Menthis continued, wiping her sword on the dead man's combat fatigues, "would you like to share his fate, or follow me and learn to speak properly?"

One of them, presumably whoever was second in command, dropped his gun, the plasteel clattering loudly on the peeling concrete, the man gulping in air several times before finding the courage to speak. "S-sorry, ma'am, is there something we can help you with?" his speech was halting, and had a viscous quality. He was making a visible effort to avoid the idiolect his commander had used.

"Damn right there is!" she snapped, "who the hell is in charge around here?"

"That would be- you just killed him."

"In that case, I'm taking charge. What are the markings for?"

They played it safe, and didn't mention her new authority. "They are symbols, of ar- I mean our god, holy Tzeentch."

"Get in touch with him then, I want to talk to him."

The man laughed hollowly. "He doesn't listen to us. His power is unmatched – we are but worms in his eyes."

Menthis grabbed him by the collar, lifting him from the ground to gain the extra foot of height so she could look him in the eye. "I don't care how powerful he is. He only exists because I do, and I don't care if you need to bleed this shit-pit dry to get to talk to him, just do it. If you do not…well, you will have no existence, no body, no soul. You will cease to be and with it any appreciation your god may or may not have for you." She threw him hard onto his gun, and he grunted as the attachments on the side dug into his spine.

She wheeled from him, curling her lip in disgust, marching away into the depths of the hive city, kicking aside a car to prove her point.

* * *

"It didn't go well, then?"

"Unfortunately not. They still do not want me to pursue it."

"Are you going to listen?"

"I'm through with listening to them. I'm going to look into things further.

"Should I prep the flotilla for departure?"

"No. I'm going to look into this alone. It requires something of a subtlety. Eleanor will take charge while I am gone."

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Yes. What is the status on locating the other entity?"

"We have yet to make significant progress. She conceals herself well."

"Look for disturbances in life in general. If searching for her essence is not yielding any results, we look using less direct means."

"As you command. Will that be all?"

"For now. Send Eleanor up here – I have something to discuss with her in private."

"As you command."


	5. Meet the Titans iv

"That's some story." Robin remarked slowly as Aiira finished the tale of her people. It had taken two hours, and after some heavy-handed coaxing from Cyborg, Changeling had joined the other three in hearing the table. All of the Titans bar Raven had heard the story, and all of them were awestruck for some reason or another. Raven had still not appeared at all, in fact, there was no indication of her still even being in the tower.

"And unfortunately I must admit to it all being true. We are not barbaric – the death is done out of necessity, but it is one of the more gruesome aspects of an immortal race."

"It ain't all it's cracked up to be, that's for sure."

"We deal with it. Every race has its good and its bad, this is our bad side. Or was – I'm not entirely sure."

"Is there no way of contacting anyone from your world?" Starfire asked.

"None. Apparently I'm not meant to know – but it's probably for the best. When I transformed into…_this_" Aiira ran one hand down herself, "I'm pretty sure I took out the biggest bridge on the planet in the process. Maybe not letting me come back is their way of saying I don't have to pay for the damages." She laughed softly at her attempt at a joke, and the others reciprocated the sound.

"Well, not all bad then." Changeling ran a hand through his hair, slowly drifting back towards the controller, sitting idle on the coffee table. A few seconds later it was back in his hands, and he was gaming again as if he had never stopped.

The other three stayed put.

"What about this war, then?" Robin queried, "Any idea who you're going after? Sounds pretty big."

"See, now this is where it gets just a little awkward." Aiira twiddled her thumbs, "I need everyone I can find, and I really don't know who I'm after. I have a few vague ideas, but I was half-hoping I could begin here."

A few feet away, Changeling crashed, the vehicle swerving from the track and plummeting into the poorly rendered white backdrop. He knew what she was on about, and the knee-jerk reaction had made him twitch and lose control. When he turned, his mouth was agape and the control slipped from his fingers to the floor. "Another war? You're joking. Do we have to? We've been through loads already."

"Garfield is right." Robin observed, watching his friend grimace at the use of his real name. "We've been through loads of battles and wars already. Sure, we're going to be heroes for a while yet, but we were hoping to have things calm down a bit, after everything we had to go through."

"In that case, I had better warn you of what could happen if you do not help. I know you want to calm down, as you just said, but this war concerns everything that even has the slightest bit of existence, the slightest bit of reality or non-reality. If I lose, everyone does, everyone good, everyone just, anyone who has even the slightest bit of kind thought in their minds and hearts goes with it. In short, if I die, you all die. Many of the people on this planet, this entire universe, will die. If I win, we survive. I can't say if your help would make a difference, but as I said, I'm looking for all the help I can get." It was a jarring prospect. Faced with total oblivion, what do you do? I've met people who don't care, people who rush to embrace destruction, those who would bravely stand against it and any number of other mind-sets.

"Well that changes things." Cyborg blinked.

"It certainly does, but as I said, I'm not sure what you're involvement would actually do, if anything. I've told you the stakes, I've told you what I'm doing. I'm not asking you to make any decisions just yet – I want you to think about this, at least. I won't have any problem either way, whatever you choose, but I just want you to consider it."

"We've saved the world before." Robin observed, "This is just a bit bigger."

"A lot bigger." Changeling disagreed.

"The war itself might be pretty small, really depending on how many I can gather. It's the territorial gain that really worries me. If we lose, there's no opportunity for a resistance, behind the lines, nothing. If we lose, we lose, and that is it."

"At least we'll know if we've won, then." Robin replied.

"So you're in?"

"I didn't say that, but even if we say no, we'll still help out, somehow."

"This war;" Starfire interjected, "there is no peaceful solution?"

Aiira gave a sad smile. "I wish there was, believe me. No, there is no room for peace or negotiation – it's all within the rules, and they are unbreakable. One side must stand, the other must fall, without exception. If you come across a loophole, I'll be glad to hear it."

"Well, I'm in."

Changeling's neck almost snapped as he spun round at the sound of that soft, brittle voice. As it would be no other, Raven stood in the doorway, eyes slowly drawing over the other five as they looked round.

"What made you change your mind?" Aiira didn't even sound surprised.

"We've saved the world before – as Robin said, this is just on a wider scale. It's always been us, with Brushogun, Trigon and the Brotherhood of Evil, it's been us every time. Always the Titans; I don't trust anyone else to do it for us anymore. Saving reality is bigger, but in the end it's still our problem." She brushed the unspoken criticism aside and sat down on the sofa, letting the cloak fall to the sides and revealing the greyish skin of hers, along with the swimsuit she wore as standard – would it be a bad time to say that she had nice boobs? I'm saying it either way – and glancing over to the others. "What?"

"You've been quiet lately. Is this what's been bothering you?" Changeling spoke up, voicing his concern as he always did.

"I didn't know about it until morning. Until now there was nothing to be worried about. I'm quiet – get used to it, I'm surprised you haven't already."

"So what _has_ been bothering you?" Perhaps he was merely thick, but Changeling isn't easily brushed aside.

"I don't see why my business should be any concern of yours." Raven replied, her voice taut, "I thought I'd made it clear that what I do does not need to be shared with anyone else. I came in to express my willingness to help – must every time I walk in be an interrogation?"

"Yo! Easy, calm down Rae, he was just asking a question." Cyborg raised his hands peacefully. Raven wanted to reply, I know it, it showed and Aiira confirmed it, but she held her tongue. Her tone remained spiteful for a moment longer, then she seemed to soften and sighed softly, trying to control her emotions.

"Never mind." Was all she said. She doesn't like to be proven wrong, even now. Everyone has their shortcomings.

"So have I proven my control, or do you need me to beat up someone bigger?" Aiira inquired, attempting to shift the topic onto something less personal. "I can't finish off every villain in this world, I'm afraid, I don't have the time."

"You're fine for now." The girl replied dismissively, "But you still have work to do."

"My power increases naturally. My control will grow over time and you will come to realise that you don't control me. My control will come as is necessary, not when you want it to."

"You seem to have a remarkable idea of what's going on." Raven sniffed.

"I have no idea what's going on! I've been thrown into this and I'm going on what I've been told! My race only knew the barest fragments of what I'm meant to do, but if you think you know more than an immortal line of scholars then be my guest, impart your knowledge!" An awkward silence hung in the air between the two girls for a long moment, until Aiira decided she had had enough.  
"Is there somewhere we can settle this? As…spectacular…as it would be, I'd rather not have to fight you."

"Then come on. I don't deserve to have to put up with this publically." Raven huffed, pushing herself to her feet again, whirling round the cloak and marching swiftly from the room. Aiira shrugged off the others and followed, a little more warily. She kept her distance from the other Titan, who seemed to be ascending somewhere.

The roof. Well, it seemed appropriate. It was somewhat private, for now, and it was easier than finding a new room in those damn corridors. Got me the first couple of times, I tell you. But that hasn't happened yet – I'm rambling, sorry.

It was early afternoon – the Titans had barely slept during the night, and chosen to catch up the moment they got back; Aiira doesn't need sleep anymore, and had been thinking until they woke up and the daily activities resumed. They emerged onto a rooftop washed with sunshine, and the concrete was hot to the touch. From the hatch was a clearly-spaced pathway to the volleyball court, to which the two individuals made their way.

"We're sorting this out now." Aiira stopped at the halfway line.

"We are." Raven stopped also, and turned until she could watch Aiira from under her hood. "I hate you, I hate this crap you're trying to pull me into, so I'm figuring the only way to return this to normal is to help you out and finish this shit. I'm stretched to breaking point almost every day, and I just want things to go back to normal. Maybe someone else can save the universe, but I'm not putting it down to chance."

"So you're pinning this on me?"

_Are there no fighters left here anymore?_

"No, I'm putting this down to having too much I've already been through. You're not half-demon, your father didn't try to destroy the world and almost succeed, you haven't spent your entire adolescence fighting jumped-up madmen who think they might actually get somewhere. I've spent too much time trying to keep something of a life to have it torn away by an unknown foe of unknown strength and number. I'm sorting this out, and then I'm done."

_Are we the generation we've been waiting for?_

"So you're just going to walk away from this? Going to give in your two cents then walk away?"  
"It's the least I deserve." Raven spat into the ground, unwittingly allow fragments of her power to blaze around her in anger.

_Or are we patiently burning,_

"It's not about what you _deserve_. I didn't deserve any of this, no-one did. I'm not going to lie, I haven't been through as much as you have, but I can tell you for sure that you can't change your mind halfway through. You chose this life, you stick with it. If I have the guts to keep going, then you damn well can."

_waiting to be saved?_

"I used to have a similar delusion." The demon-girl looked away. "Then I grew up. If you really are convinced that this is the way to go, then by all means continue – I won't stop you, I don't care what you do to yourself. You've got a damn-sight harder job convincing me."

_Our heroes, our idols, have mellowed with age._

"Then we will fail." Aiira whispered, as one piece of the prophecy began to make sense.

_Following rules they once disobeyed._

"You have a strange priority."

_They're now being led,_

"One of light and one of dark, fates burning bright in the endless destruction. One shall rise and one shall fall, no impasse can be reached, no deal can be brokered. Each backed by warriors that respect their purpose, champions of their worlds, demagogues all, council sought, taken or dismissed, this thus marks the end of all that will and all that is." Aiira recited the prophecy verbatim to the Titan. "Each backed by warriors that respect their purpose." She repeated slowly.

"You must believe this, or there is no point in you trying."

_When they used to lead the way._

"How convenient." Raven replied, patronisingly, "It's such a useful fact then that I am one of the best at defying prophecies."

_Do you still believe in all the things that you stood by before?_

"Do me a favour Raven, stop taking my own words and spinning them back at me. You volunteered to help save the universe, then you turn your back on it. What is it to be? If you want to try and cast it all away then so be it, but don't spend your time trying to slow me down. If you don't want to fucking bother, then I have other people to see." Aiira replied emphatically, throwing her hand out to emphasize the point. "Do not waste more of my time in this way – I mean to try and ask the help of others, but not you, not if you cannot bring yourself to agree of your own volition." She turned to leave.

_Are you out there on the front lines,_

"You really believe all that?" it was toneless, but it made the champion pause.

_Or at home keeping score?_

"Yes, and I will continue to do so."

_Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate?_

"You believe the impossible – my mind is a wasteland, I've seen worlds come apart, others built, suns born and killed. You ask me to believe the impossible – that this is it. That it will go no further."

Aiira smiled slowly. Raven wasn't convinced, no, but she _saw._ As she said, she had fought against prophecies before, she had won and lost her own share of battles, and she knew what it was like to be the lynchpin, holding the world together. Though she could not fully admit to it, she couldn't let go. It went against what she did.

_Or would you rather be the architect of what we might create?_

Raven always fought, always hoped, always kept going. It wasn't her nature to stand by; she always stood up to be counted. No matter what, her mind and soul would not allow her to stand on the side-lines. Every world needs heroes, and she would not, could not, would _never_ allow her world to be without them. It was a dilemma – she didn't want to have herself drawn into another conflict, but at the same time it was an anathema to her, not fighting.

"It's a simple choice, Raven, yes or no."

"I can't fight for something I don't even believe in." the Titan's voice sounded a little shaky, as her resolve finally began to waver as she was caught in the vice between the two options.

"But you do believe. You want to win, to survive, to keep on making sure people know that you're pushing back. I'm not sure if you believe in what I do just yet, but you believe in fighting back, and I need people like you by my side."

"Then count me in, council sought, taken or dismissed."

* * *

"You can't find her."

"I can damn well try, Eleanor."

"You have to search…well…everywhere. It's an impossible task."

"Well, I might as well get started then. I'm not standing by in this."

"I didn't say you should."

"Then please, do not try and dissuade me from this. I rescued you because I didn't want to just wait and watch to see what would happen. I will play my part, for good or ill, and I shall bear the consequences."

"Are you getting married?"

"Do I really sound that cliché?"

"Yep, but at least you've got the combat gear. Go on then, if you're going to do this, then go."

"Don't worry, I'm going to come back. A search does not mean I will neglect you, or anyone else."

_Eleanor Lamb, you never cease to amaze me._

* * *

The ritual could not work – Kulsk could see it already. Every ritual of summoning for even the most lesser of creatures required sorcery and blood, blood of warriors, blood of those who drew power from the Empyrean. Only the most influential of the followers of the dark powers could afford the blood sacrifice or had influence enough to perform the ritual without it. He had tried to convince her so, but the promise of losing everything in his failure had made him want to try anyway. At least if he died here it would be serving the god of change.

The floor around him was already wet with the blood of dozens upon dozens of sacrifices, the offerings brought into the eight-pointed star sunk into the floor, their throats slit and lifeblood allowed to pour into the cracks, to suffuse the unholy altar with the souls of the dead.

At the edges of the shallow pit stood the sect of sorcerers, anyone who had even the most base knowledge of the dark chants necessary, and their droning rose around him, drowning out all other noise in a discordant wail. For us to hear that music it would have been excruciating, but to him it was glorious! A summoning, a hand reaching into the Empyrean! Maybe it would work; maybe his pitiful attempts may catch the eye of the changer himself and grant him what he deserved.

The wailing reached a crescendo, the unholy noises splitting the eardrums of the cultists that chanted it, and within the pit, Kulsk felt something happen. Something tugged at him, pulling from beyond the veil of reality, and he cried out in ecstasy as he realised that his summons had been answered, that he had succeeded in summoning…something. It was not what he expected.  
The blood around him began to writhe, pseudo-tentacles forming and splashing apart as blood congealed and then dispersed.

An unspoken command rippled through the pool of rust-coloured liquid, and the stuff began to stick to him, washing over him in thin waves, coating him in this blood; he could only appreciate it for a few moments more, then he felt the pain.

It was as if every nerve in his body was being torn out, as if he was being thrown into the core of the planet alive, and he began to lose his mind. The blood found its way under his skin, through his pores, and began to expand around muscles and bones, and those nearby heard a dreadful cracking, the man's spine snapping as muscles expanded and grew. Newer, inhuman bones and muscle grew into place. All the while, Kulsk revelled in the power flooding through him, voices whispering in his ear promises of yet greater power…if he killed her.

Then it was over, and he was most certainly no longer human. He stood, hunched over, a mound of muscle and sinew dripping fresh blood, his skin coloured a violent shade of red and his features distorted, eyes that burned the mind and hands that could crush a man's life from his very bones. He had attracted the attention not of Tzeentch, but of Khorne. He didn't care, his mind, unhinged as it was and courted by daemons, he was too drunk on the dark power to understand the difference or even care, his thoughts only able to comprehend the slaughter he could now bring.  
Kulsk stood slowly, eyes burning down on the followers of Tzeentch, now his enemies, and he reached towards the first and very calmly removed his head with a snap of his wrist. The blood did not pour to the ground, but snaked up his arm and into his skin, and the daemonic mutant felt a brief rush of power from the gore.

_Kill her…_

_She asks questions…_

_She demands answers…_

_She is too powerful…_

_She must not be allowed to find our lord…_

_She must die…_

"Kill her…" the worlds issued from his fanged maw unbidden in a guttural, grumbling moan. Even as he said the words, the blood taken from the cultist snaked back down towards his arm and out from his hand, a crimson blade forming in his hand, taller than a man and thicker than his waist. He searched around, pivoting within the deconsecrated chapel, before settling with the knowledge that there was no way out.

He turned the blade to the door, his first stroke biting through the thick wood and showing the two cultists stationed outside with splinters. The second stroke ripped the massive double doors from their hinges, crushing the guards even as they moved to escape. Moments later their bodies were pulped further as his armoured feet landed on the door, uncaring of the damage, the daemon strode onwards.

Ripples of energy leftover from the summoning were spreading out into the city, turning the skies to a rancid green and stretching the walls of reality to breaking point. For a moment, what remained of Kulsk saw every moment of that city, saw every point, and then his mind was stung, a malevolent presence within the city – _his_ city – and he wanted it **out.**

He took a step forward into the desolation, and the ground exploded under him. He weighed about as much as a battle tank, but such was the strength of the blast that he was lifted from his feet, and hurled back into the chapel, bringing down the walls in his unexpected moment of flight. From the point of explosions shot a wash of darkness, blacker than he could see, and Menthis rose from it, calm despite the rage she could easily unleash.

"Answers…you will give me answers that you lied for!" Kulsk roared, dragging himself from the crater, swinging his blade wildly.

"I asked you to contact Tzeentch. You have defied my order, and you will get nothing save oblivion. I will let him be your judge." She was eerily calm. Her own sword was half the length of the daemon's, but keener, and though she didn't show it, the man's inability to follow orders had pissed her off.

That's one thing I learnt. You do _not_ piss her off.

* * *

_Does it surprise you, to see Menthis fighting soldiers who could be her own? You could be forgiven if you are – I was at first, when I was tracking her, she had no end to the surprises. As for Eleanor…I rescued her, not just from that life-pod from Rapture, but also from the insanity, the madness that had been pressed upon her in that place. She's one of the best, and so I left her in charge, for a time. As for Aiira and Raven…if you think they're having trouble, well, she was a real bitch to me when we first met, Raven was._


	6. Meet the Titans V

"And the others?"

"I'll see what I can do, but I don't make promises I'm not sure if I can keep." Raven allowed a smile. At least something was going right. "I've been tugging their minds around for years. I think I can make something work."

"I've been meaning to ask, why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you control them like this?" inquired Aiira. "What is so important that you must leash them?"

"They're too unpredictable." There was a tang of venom in the Titan's voice. "They don't think things through, ever; just rush blindly into things, all guns blazing. I don't control them directly, they would notice, and Cyborg is immune to direct mind control. I subtly change the way they think, force them to consider what they do and act a little more patiently. I wish I didn't have to, but I don't have a choice, if I want them to survive."

"Why not just tell them to be?"

"They wouldn't listen."

"It's either you try or I do – you won't be able to maintain this iron-grip forever, and they need to be able to act independently if they're going to help at all. They will listen to you, though I doubt you've ever tried just talking to them."

"True, I haven't, but nothing is ever as easy as we would want it." Raven shook her head slowly. "You haven't been around them as long as I have. I'd be forever trying to make it up to them were to I admit what I've been doing all this time."

Noon had passed, it was near lunchtime, but neither Raven nor Aiira were particularly hungry. They had resolved their differences to some extent, and now discussed the finer points of the Titans' involvement. The day had seen a cool wind begin to blow, and this high up without cloud cover the cool air was welcome on Aiira's skin. She gets hot or cold as we do, but she does have the option to ignore it as her body requires. In this case she could feel it well and truly, like a caressing hand…the day was hot and a breeze was welcome. What can I say?

The Titan's tower rose above the city on its spit of rock, the only feature in the wide, drifting bay. Waves lapped against the rocks in the ever-encroaching process of erosion, salt-spray giving the rocks cause to shine as beacons would. The sun coloured the concrete a shade of roughened orange, the polished pipework turning into scores of mirrors all reflecting miniature images of the two beings, and the constant chatter of gulls prevented any silence but could not stop awkward moments.

"Everything has consequences, and we have to bear them eventually." Aiira looked over at Raven, concerned. "I can't solve everything and I have others to find. I have a little more time but I really do need to keep moving. We'll solve this now, get it out of the way. It's a problem to be solved early, not on the doorstep of conflict. They don't know me as well as they know you – they have less to retaliate against if things go pear-shaped." She punched the demon-girl on the shoulder. "Give me five, maybe ten minutes then come down."

Aiira walked away, threading her way back through the pipes and dropping into the hatch once more, trading bright sunlight for dim corridor, stalking through the tower back to the living room where the other four remained, now watching Changeling and Cyborg beat each other up on a fairly basic wrestling game.

"You know, it doesn't take a game to throw fists." She remarked on her way in, leaning casually on the back of the sofa, just past Robin's shoulder.

"Yea…" replied Changeling, "but then ya need to wait for the bruises to heal, and Cy leaves a lot of bruises."

"Duly noted."

"You two sort everything out?" queried Robin, more concerned on practical things.

"Yea, it's cool. She's more afraid for your safety than she lets on, all of you." Said Aiira.

"I guess." Robin got up to fetch himself something to drink. "She doesn't exactly show it."

"Would you believe her if she did? She's been like this for some time, has she not?"

"For as long as we've known her." Robin's interest in the game seemed to have evaporated. That, or he hadn't really cared before anyway. He adopted a smile that was slightly sardonic, a very common expression for him whenever he was discussing anything other than work. "What's your point?"

"Well, if suddenly she started mothering you, passing concerns about being careful, would you believe it, or put it down to one of her slightly awkward jokes?" It was fragile ground Aiira trod, and a wrong foot would spell trouble for either her or Raven. To an extent the grey-skinned Titan was right; she didn't know the nuances, the peculiarities and personalities of the other four. In that respect she was at a disadvantage, but as she had said before, it was a boon as well as a problem. They didn't know _her_ either.

"I see what you're getting at. Even if she did show it now, it wouldn't seem right."

"You would disregard it as a poor attempt at humour." Aiira finished for him. "It wouldn't make sense. That's why you had to hear it from me."

"Because we can't guess at you." Starfire cut in. Apparently she shared Robin's disinterest of the virtual world. "We know nothing of your ways, and we can more easily see the truth within you."  
"That's the up and down of it. Would you hear me out, then? This is important."

Cyborg leant back over the sofa, receiving a grunting insult from Changeling as he paused the game, and he diverted his attention to the little green man for a moment. "Hey, shut it and listen will ya?" he snapped, "Show some damn respect."

Aiira shifted her position slightly, so she could rest more easily on the counter, and begun. "I'm probably being way too blunt with this, but I'm not a talker, not yet. I was introspective on my home planet – anyway, as I said, Raven is concerned for all of you. More than you know and more than she would want you to believe, but to me it's clear enough." She paused long enough to wipe a stray hair from her eye. "For years now – I don't know the specifics – she's being keeping tabs on all of you; a mental link. In effect, she's been controlling you. No, I know what you're thinking," Aiira waved down their protests, "no, she hasn't been owning you for all these years. She's said it was subtle, to make you think before you act. She doesn't want any of you to get yourselves killed. I think she wanted to tell you sooner, but she really couldn't, and you know why. It's why I'm telling you now; you would have hated her for it, judged her without listening first. I'm asking you not to. If you really want to ask her to let go, you need to follow her advice."

The other four had fallen into stunned silence, their rebukes and retorts dying in their throats. Years of this unknown protector hanging over their heads…at first they had thought it a form of control, but no, it was the way of a guardian. It's true, while she had been tempted by her darker nature to take more direct control, Raven had never done so.

"I had my reasons." Raven sounded calm, quite a contrast to the worry she had shown. It was almost as if it were setting her free. In a way I expect it was. Keeping secrets for so long can grow to be a burden on any mind, and it had been a contributor to her spite and bitterness over the years.

Her arrival had timed itself well – probably not naturally – to enter as Aiira finished her speech. "Now go ahead, judge me and throw me out. I've been expecting it."

The door slid shut behind her with an awful finality, as if granting the Titans permission to speak.  
"It's a bit late for that. I guessed." Cyborg sniffed. "I felt it when you started, Raven. I'm immune to mind control since Brother Blood, and I felt it. You never had any control over me, but when I worked out why you were doing it, I figured it would be best not to say." He kept his voice low, sincere. This was a surprise for Raven too, and Aiira; Cyborg had always been definitely immune to the most obvious and clear form of mind control, but still the demon-girl started in mute surprise at the bionic man's confession. "Rae, I don't know how much this means, but if it's up to me, then you're staying. I've had years now to look over what you did and why, and I can't find any issue – I just wish you had been more open, but nobody's perfect."

It was a touching little speech he made; reassuring, really. Of all the Titans, Cyborg seems to me to be the best at showing emotion, being sensitive when he needs it. He's had his problems…but we all have. Some worse than others.

"It explains why I haven't managed to get myself killed yet." Changeling admitted with a chuckle that relieved some of the tension. "You've probably saved my life enough times by now. I'm with Cyborg on this one."

"You've done more than enough." Starfire left it at that, and it remained for Robin to deliver his verdict. Strangely enough he had said nothing the entire time. Though his mask made his expression somewhat unreadable, Aiira told me that he looked to be in a state of deep thought or consideration. After what seemed to be a minute of terse silence, he finally delivered his voice. "I just want to know how long. Have I been in control of myself?"

"I never told you what to do." Replied Raven, "I never directly touched your thoughts. It wasn't my place to see your mind. I only pushed in a better direction. I never had control – that was always yours. As for how long…since Trigon. The same magic I used to help you survive also paved the way for this."

Robin nodded in understanding. "But why reveal it to us now? How does this help?"

"Because I don't want to have to keep it up any more." Raven began to pace, away from the door and round the edges of the room. She kept her distance from the others, still uncomfortable in their presence. "I've been holding sway for as long as I have because I didn't want to see any of you get yourselves killed. After what we've been through together, you guys are what's held my life together all this time. I didn't want to take such a role, even such a subtle one, in controlling any of you, but at the time I didn't see any other way. I didn't tell you because I was worried about how you would react, and I'm saying it now because I want to stop. I needed you to know why so that perhaps when I finally relinquished my grip, you would understand what I had been trying to achieve and maybe move towards such an end yourselves." Her route led her to stop in front of the giant glass front of the room. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to."

* * *

"So there's nothing I can say to dissuade you from leaving."

"Not this time Eleanor, not this time."

"Then why did you ask me to come?"

"Well…two reasons I guess. I couldn't go without saying goodbye. That would be horribly impolite of me."

"And the second reason?"

I kissed her at that moment – just on the cheek, nothing intimate. We had dated for a year a bit back, I had let her go; I'm a warrior, and I didn't want to cause her any more pain.

"That's the second reason. In case I don't return."

Then I jumped, and was swept away into the void.

* * *

The streets of Khalg Gnol were in ruin. Grey and black rockcrete buildings lay in ruin, long-abandoned by the former imperial citizenry that had resided there. Paint peeled off walls and the new occupants scurried through rat-holes and vast underground piping in search of something to survive on, living or dead.

Flashes of black lightning scarred buildings further, the newest occupant of this vast derelict city leaving its mark. The storm above waged war against the earth, showing no signs of abating, for this was no ordinary storm. It was a warp storm, the thinning of the veil between reality and empyrean, a tide of emotion and destruction seeping through the cracks in space. People found themselves fused to walls or the floor or even each other as the wind of change ran rampant, and unreasoned fights broke out in every area of the city, the red mist claiming victim after victim. Of course, there was one battle that drew the eyes both mortal and beyond.

Menthis rolled aside through the rubble, responding instantly as the daemon lord charged, bellowing like an enraged grox, baring aside piles of brickwork and cement, swinging his sword in great, decapitating arcs in his attempt to destroy his far more lithe opponent. In a moment she was on her feet once more, and a spasm of willpower jetted a lance of black energy from her hand into the back of the daemon. The spear split the pulsing red skin to let forth a torrent of black, poisonous blood and the daemon lord did not slow.

Recovering from his earlier blunder he approached more cautiously, heeding the council of his own thoughts instead of the mindless daemonic bloodlust – for all the corruption, some thin remnant of Kulsk remained. The daemon-blade descended upon Menthis with a trail of bright light in its wake, and once again she rolled neatly from the blast, but it was not an act of flight.

As the blade had come down she had dived forward, bringing herself under the creature's bulky guard and driving Asa into his leg. The purest darkness that made up that weapon set off every nerve in his body, the daemons inside writhing in agony at this attack on their essences, but no, Menthis was not done yet. She twisted Asa within the wound and tore sideways, tearing it free and half severing the leg in the process, using the momentum from the tug to swing round and bury the blade once again within the daemon's leg. This time there was not enough muscle and flesh to halt Asa, and with a triumphant shout Menthis watched the leg come free in a seething rush of polluted blood and gore.

Deprived of one of his limbs, Kulsk toppled sideways to the ground, skin suffering yet further on the broken concrete, but he was not done. A daemon lord rarely gives up on his prize. He still had his sword and now he could see his target. She moved like quicksilver and he lashed out, hungry for blood, and the dark spot of evil blocked it and froze. For a moment the two were locked in that moment, his prodigious strength battling her mental strength as she channelled it as her own fury, then the blade shattered. That beautiful daemonic weapon splintered and exploded, coming apart with bits of metal and wet organic matter, both alive and dead, and the champion of darkness moved in to finish the job.

The daemon lord Kulsk, barely even a warrior and already doomed to oblivion, now beset by daemons for his failure and every nerve in his body screaming out in pain…but it was still not the worst he could feel. Menthis now stood atop him, straight and Asa pointing tip-first to his rusting chestplate, and she looked down at him, staring into his eyes and into his soul. In that moment, before he even felt death, his soul was torn from him. Ripped from his mortal form then shredded by Menthis, fuelling her as no meditation could do. Then she killed him, dropping to one knee and powering the tip of that awesome weapon through the armour and toughened skin into his swollen, distended heart, using only a fraction of the power she had taken.

He died within his birth into daemonhood, his soul no prize for his masters, only for that woman, skin too black to reflect even the barest light, knew what a soul was truly worth, and she had taken it. She wrenched the blade free from the lifeless body and looked to the sky, for she had a message for the daemonic lords of the Empyrean.

"Gods of chaos! I know you hear my voice!" she shouted over the sound of the unnatural thunder, more for dramatic effect than anything else – the daemon gods would have heard her at a whisper. "I offer you this chance now, send your daemon children against me a second time and it will not be only they that bear the pain of defeat, you will feel it too! Dare send your soldiers against me again and you shall be cast down! Consider this your warning, and heed it well."

To be truthful, Menthis did not know whether or not she would have been able to dethrone the chaos gods. She had drawn a great amount of power from that dead creature, but there had been some measure of bluffing to it. There was plenty more souls and their energies, the life and existence of all creatures could belong to her if it was necessary. Perhaps her threat was not yet possible, but in time it would be.

The husk of a daemon was already dissolving, skin tightening around distended skeleton as the power that had held it in the material realm came undone. Menthis hopped off the creature and moved away from the battleground, back into the city. This place would serve as a good base of operations, but not in this state, she decided. It would need a lot of work, and for that she would need workers, and reliable ones. The rabble that inhabited this place would be replaced with trained warriors, who could follow her command unquestioningly.

All that was far from being ready. She had her part to play in this, and so did the gods of chaos.

* * *

"I'm sorry to cut this off so abruptly, but I probably should be going." Aiira told the Titans, having cleared up the rather delicate scenario. "I have others to ask for aid and I don't want to impress myself upon you any longer than is necessary."

"Short visit." Raven remarked without emotion.

"I have no idea how long this will take each time – I want to avoid running out of time. Besides, I want to give you all space to think. You know of my need, but I can't force you to follow."

"Do you always sound so noble?" asked Robin.

"I don't really know now, do I? You can't really tell what you are without the help of another."

"On Tameran, a display of kindness or respect in this amount would only be awarded to the planet's ruler. Whether or not it is an exaggerated notion here, I cannot say." Starfire added, lending towards her overly-formal speech. "But I can reliably inform you that being noble is not a quality that you should shun."

"In truth I was hoping to avoid being pompous or haughty." Aiira waved a hand. At the resolution of some of the more troubling matters they had relaxed somewhat, spent a couple of hours talking and finally invited Aiira to dinner. The goddess had declined, along with the explanation that she no longer needed food, that it would have been wasted.

In that time, the shadows had lengthened, the sun had dropped from the horizon and the moon had risen to a bright night indeed. The lights in the tower had dimmed, thus allowed the moon to conjure long, curling shadows from everything in view of the massive glass window. The pale light and quiet room created an atmosphere to which you could warm to, and one that was faintly romantic for anyone who felt it was right.

And they were. Starfire was spending most of the evening on Robin's shoulder, staring at him with a look that spoke of longing, affection, and a great deal other things that I can't be bothered to list here. Maybe if you buy me a drink one day I'll tell you the full list. All in all it had been a good day, even with the rocky beginnings, for things had been resolved faster than I think I would have been able to. "I'm glad, really, and surprised, that I was greeted so well. I hardly expected to have been accepted so readily." Added Aiira, offhandedly. "I will return, if you will allow it."

"Come back anytime." Changeling replied, "always cool to have another friend." He added companionably.

"In that case, I should probably be going. Drawing out goodbyes in any case is always so awkward." Syr pulled itself into being with a drawn-out whine, and, holding it above her head, Aiira sliced down, the edge catching on the walls of reality and tearing them apart. Really it was just casting herself into another dimension, so all she could see was a swirling mass of colour hanging in the air. She glanced back at the other five, giving hem one last wave in goodbye along with a confident smile, then she stepped through.

Reacting to her presence, the portal closed behind her in a defensive measure built into the fabric of reality itself, her perceptions for scant moments becoming that of a god and not of the physical plane, consciousness flipping past dimensions in a quick search for a likely location. There were many that radiated innocence, some of pain. It was the latter she was interested in – pain meant war and conflict, conflict meant two sides, and that generally meant a right and a wrong side.  
They weren't identifiable from the nexus that joined them…but you could still stand out, even there. Aiira found herself drawn to one that looked to be unfortunate; within its own dimensional cluster there were dozens of others, alternate realities latched onto it in a strangely parasitic relationship. Perhaps the parent dimension could offer some warriors, or answers at least.

Although the distance seemed vast in the web of dimensional cascades, time was not a factor there, and the portal was open and she was on the surface of a new planet in a time incomprehensible. With a growl the portal closed behind her, and Aiira took a look at the world she was on.

Forests…and thin jungle. Not bad; if there was civilisation it would probably be nearby, at least. There were plenty of animals – birdsong and the rustling of undergrowth were common and all over the place, and there were signs of intelligent life…further off. The air was saturated with consciousness, many different lives passing many different ways…this would prove to be an asset or a problem either way, though. She wouldn't find out if she didn't take a look.

Syr in hand, she set off into the forest, wondering how, if she encountered anyone, she would differentiate them as friend or foe.

* * *

_Well, yea. Aiira did well with the Titans – much better than most and it was frankly a miracle for someone in her position. I'm glad for her…very glad. She had not been given as long as I had to adjust, nor did she have the influence I held in my own universe. Speaking of which…yes, Eleanor and I had shared a relationship. About a year, as I said, but I had not wanted her to be caused too much pain were I to be killed. Warriors live solitary lives for a reason, though mine was not the life of a…conventional warrior. Rapture, that city she had lived for so long in, it had almost destroyed her mind, the pain she had gone through. I had saved her, I had repaired the damage to her mind and spirit, and given her a better life._

_I'm not sure if it was a good idea, but as now, I did what I believed best, as much as I could anyway. I still had one last gift for her._


End file.
